


Drivin' All Night

by sun_dance



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_dance/pseuds/sun_dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim absolutely refuses to go to Georgia. He doesn't want to be just a distraction, knowing that if he goes with Bones, he won't get to spend as much time with his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drivin' All Night

**Author's Note:**

> For Hillary, who wanted a fic based on [Drivin' All Night](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLTZMOXf1zo) by Jake Owens.

“Do you have everything?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Are you sure?” Jim walked into the bathroom, his steps almost frantic. “Do you have your shampoo?”

“No,” McCoy sighed, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Jim nearly put him in a chokehold, not realizing McCoy had followed him into the bathroom. “I have  _your_  shampoo.”

He nosed his way into Jim’s neck and took a deep breath, trying to memorize the scent trapped there. It was a mixture of aftershave, sweat, and strangely enough, pine trees. (He was pretty sure Jim only put on aftershave to drive him crazy; he, like every other cadet at the academy, was on a beard suppressant to make complying with regulation easier.)

Jim dropped his head back against McCoy’ shoulder, closing his eyes briefly. He reveled in the safe warmth emanating from his boyfriend’s chest. “I wish I could go with you,” he sighed, his arms resting on the ones wrapped around him.

“You can.” McCoy pointed out, lifting his nose in order to speak clearly. He spun Jim around in his arms, keeping him close; he had a better chance at changing his mind that way. “I’ll buy your ticket, Jim. Come with me.” He leaned in, hovering with just millimeters of space between their lips. Jim moved to close the distance, but McCoy stayed just out of reach, watching the anticipation turn to frustration until Jim sighed.

“I can’t,” Jim whined, reaching up to seize his face. He closed the distance, leaving a reluctantly chaste kiss, and then extracted himself from McCoy’ arms. "You have to spend time with your family. I'll only distract you." He slipped out of the bathroom, returning to his last minute mental checklist. “You’ve packed all Joanna’s presents? Do you have enough clothes? What about your communicator and PADD’s?”

“Jim, I told you, I’ve got everything. Would you come here so I can give you a proper goodbye?” McCoy followed Jim at a distance, both amused and irritated by his antics.

“What if you forgot something?”

“Well, they have this magical thing called overnight shipping. Come here, damnit,” McCoy lunged for him when he skittered past, wrapping him up once more in his arms. He silenced Jim’s protests with his mouth, cradling his jaw with one hand while the other pressed against the small of his back. Jim melted against him, his mouth opening easily. When he pulled back, Jim’s eyes were heavy-lidded.

“I’ll miss you,” Jim sighed, drawing in his slightly swollen bottom lip.

“I know. I gotta go, Jim. I’ll miss my flight.” McCoy released him slowly and crossed to the door. “I’ll see you in two weeks, kid.” He flashed Jim a smile and slipped out, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

∞

“When are you coming home?” Jim asked, looking down at a seven inch image of McCoy. He looked tired, but was practically glowing. He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing away the tiredness to keep talking to the man he left only the day before.

“Two weeks, Jim.” He rolled his eyes.

“Nope. Twelve days.”

“ _So_ rry. Twelve days. I was rounding up.” McCoy said with a yawn. “I’m beat. Joanna made me play this game that’s a mixture of hide and seek and tag. I gotta get up early, too…”

“Are you trying to guilt-trip me into hanging up?”

“Not at all,” McCoy grinned, his eyes crinkling gently at the corners. Jim sighed.

“Just lay down, then. I’ll hang up once you fall asleep.”

“Not at all creepy,” McCoy muttered, but he did as he was told. He propped his PADD up against one of the dozens of decorative pillows, and all Jim could hear was rustling for a few moments. ”How’s that?” McCoy settled his head on less decorative pillow, one arm curled beneath it while he laid on his side.

“Perfect.” Jim tucked a pillow under his chin, smiling gently. “Goodnight,” he whispered. McCoy made a soft noise of recognition, his eyes already closed. Jim watched as his face relaxed, becoming an ugly relaxed mess. He never did end the call; when McCoy woke the next morning, he got an eyeful of a drooling Jim Kirk. He made sure to take a screencap before exiting the call. Before he left his room, he emailed the picture to Jim, with a teasing note included.

Across the room, the door banged open.

“Daddy!” Joanna shrieked, hurtling across the room at breakneck speed. McCoy managed to catch her under her arms and lift her up, spin her around, then set her back down on her feet.

“What is it?” He let her take his hand and drag him across the room, out the door, down the narrow back staircase.

“Nana made pancakes,” Joanna said, out of breath with excitement.

“No!” McCoy gasped, dramatically covering his mouth.

“YES.” Joanna stomped into the kitchen, McCoy in tow, and sat him down at the table.

∞

“When are you coming home?” Jim was wearing his reading glasses and no shirt. Even though McCoy couldn’t see the rest, he liked to imagine Jim was naked, even in a nonsensual way. Looking at Jim naked was like looking at the statue of David; yeah, the junk is important, but the rest is still beautiful to see.

“Ten more days,” McCoy sighed. There were, somehow, more bags under his eyes.

“How late is it there?”

“You know there’s a three hour difference, Jim.”

“Tell me anyway. I miss how you sound when you’re tired.”

“It’s one AM, Jim.”

Jim’s breath caught. “Say that again. Slower.”

McCoy blinked. “It’s one AM, Jim.” Jim’s eyes closed, his bottom lip turning white under his lip. The PADD rocked gently, and McCoy’s eyes widened. “Are you jerking off?” He hissed, checking to make sure his door was shut.

“Maybe,” Jim panted, cracking his eyes open. He smirked at McCoy’s slack-jawed expression.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” The rocking image went still, and Jim opened his eyes fully.

“I don’t know… felt kind of weird? ‘Hey, Bones, I’m just going to play with myself while you tell me about your kid.’”

“When you put it like that, it sounds gross… but if you’d told me you were, I would’ve talked about other things…” His voice dipped, and he poured his entire being into a heavy southern drawl. “Like tellin’ you the thought of you touching yourself is makin’  _me_  hard.” Jim whined, his eyes sliding shut. His lip disappeared fully this time, and reappeared shiny and wet.

“Bones,” Jim moaned, the image of him rocking more and more. “I figured you would feel weird about this, anyway. You said you didn’t like phone sex.”

“This is not phone sex,” McCoy said gruffly, his pants already feeling tight.

“Touché,” Jim breathed, training his eyes on his lover’s mouth.

“Stop,” McCoy commanded, watching happily as Jim stopped moving. “Good boy,” he purred, setting the PADD down. He quickly pulled off his shirt and threw it across the room, his pants soon to follow.

“What are you doing?” Jim adjusted the PADD, changing hands.

“I’ll give you one guess,” McCoy replied, propping the PADD up against the headboard of the bed. He knelt in front of it, watched Jim’s eyes widen, and grinned as he wrapped a hand around himself.

“Shouldn’t you lock the door?” Jim whispered, but he was already moving into a position similar to McCoy’s. He set his end down on the night stand, and laid on his back, giving McCoy a kind of profile view.

“Already did.” McCoy groaned, watching Jim resume stroking himself. Now that Jim’s entire body was in view, he didn’t have to imagine; granted, he wanted to do far dirtier things to Jim than he wanted to do to the statue of David.

They managed to coordinate their releases, coming within ten seconds of each other. After he cleaned up, McCoy cradled the PADD in his lap, somehow looking even more pathetic than he had before.

“I miss you,” was the last thing he said before he nodded off.

∞

“When are you coming home?”

“Eight more days, kid. Didn’t you have some kind of diagram drawn on the fridge?” McCoy had the PADD in the bathroom, propped up beside the mirror, while he adjusted his tie.

“Yes, but it’s fun to watch that little muscle twitch every time I ask – kinda like it’s doing now.”

McCoy paused in his tie adjustment to scowl at him. “How do you always get the knot so perfect?” He whined, turning back to the mirror.

“Practice.” Jim smirked, enjoying the view; McCoy was stretching his chin upward, as though it would help him tie the knot better. After a few more minutes, he sighed and threw the tie down on the counter.

“It’s no use,” he grumbled, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “It’s gonna be hot, anyway.”

“Where are you going that you need to wear a tie?”

“Dinner. Jocelyn wants to have dinner.”

Jim frowned slowly and leaned in closer. “Jocelyn. As in your ex-wife. As in the woman who divorced you. That Jocelyn?”

“Yes,” McCoy sighed, taking the PADD with him across the hall to retrieve his jacket. “That Jocelyn.”

“Well… what’s she want?”

“What she always wants.”

“And you’re going to dinner with her anyway? Bones…”

“Jim, I have never let her wrestle me into bed before, and I’m not going to now. Especially not with you in the picture. Got it? Every time she wraps her lipstick stained lips around her cocktail straw, I’m going to be thinking of all the ways I’m going to make it up to you. Mkay?”

“Okay,” Jim settled reluctantly back, his expression still troubled. “Are you going alone?”

“Yes. Baby, don’t worry.” He sighed, sat down on the bed, cradled the PADD in both hands. “Jim.”

“What?” He snapped, and then apologized with a frustrated sigh. “I just don’t like it, Bones.”

“I know you don’t,” McCoy soothed. He took in a breath and checked the time. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve got to go.”

Jim looked away from his PADD. “Okay.”

“Stop pouting. I’m not there to make you stop.” McCoy frowned.

“I’m not pouting,” Jim grumbled.

“You are.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I miss you so bad, Jim. I wish I were going to dinner with you and not her. I wish so bad you had come.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. “I love you.” He did.

∞

Not ten minutes after McCoy hung up, Jim got another incoming call. His heart soared, part of him thinking McCoy had decided not to go. A sultry greeting is on the tip of his tongue when the image finally comes through.

It’s not Bones.

Jim swallows his words and puts on a smile. “Hey, JoJo.”

She didn’t bother saying hello; it was an emergency. “You  _have_  to come,  _right now_ ,” she said, with all the gravitas a six year old could muster. Despite the way his heart skips a beat, his brain concocting a million different scenarios (Bones in a heap of crumpled metal on the side of the road, Bones lying comatose in a hospital bed, Jocelyn with a gun in her hand pointed at Bones), Jim takes a deep breath.

“Why’s that, honey?”

Joanna sighs in exasperation. “Daddy is always sad. Like, not Marco dying sad, but really sad. He would be so much happier if you were here.” Jim covered his mouth to hide his smile. So he was sad, but not as sad as when their Hound passed.

“Okay, JoJo.”

∞

The GPS estimates that to drive from San Francisco to McCoy’s family doorstep will take roughly thirty six hours.

Jim does it in twenty nine and a half.

He had to pull over just outside of Oklahoma City to nap, but only for an hour.

∞

Jim is tired. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired.

He’s also about to get a urinary tract infection, because he’s had to pee since he crossed the border.

He punched the doorbell six times, stopping only when he heard the deadbolt slide open. He’s rehearsed a dozen different things to say, and none of them felt right. Hopefully he’ll think of something…

The door cracked open. “Jim?” McCoy’s eyes widened, and he pulled the door open wider.

Jim took a breath and rushed at him. “I have to pee!” He shouted, shooting straight past McCoy’s outstretched arms. When he emerged from the bathroom, he sheepishly peeked at McCoy from under his eyelashes.

McCoy’s arms were folded over his chest, frown firmly in place. Joanna was seated on the armchair a few feet away, her hands squeezed between her knees.

“What happened to staying in San Francisco?” McCoy demanded.

“Joanna said you were sad.”

McCoy lurched forward, his arms cinching around Jim, making it hard to breathe. “Bones,” he choked, barely managing to move his arms out of the way.

“Why didn’t you just fly, you idiot?” McCoy murmured, pulling back. He palmed Jim’s cheek and pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He lingered there, sighing into Jim’s mouth, his body relaxing as he realized Jim was  _really there._

“Gross!” Joanna shouted, covering her eyes. McCoy ignored her, but only for a few more seconds. He pulled away from Jim, grinning helplessly.

“I’m so glad you came,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Jim’s.

“I’ve been driving all night.” Jim sagged into McCoy’s arms, eyes closing.

McCoy shook his head, still grinning. “Idiot.”

∞

Jim is wearing cheap sunglasses, cargo shorts, a gas station t-shirt from Alabama, and he’s standing outside the bathroom of another gas station in Texas. He’s smacking his gum impatiently and staring at a map.

The bathroom door opened finally, and McCoy stepped out, dressed much better because he didn’t leave at the drop of a hat and he didn’t leave without packing a bag. “It’s upside down, darlin’,” McCoy teased, passing behind him. He squeezed Jim’s ass playfully, and approached the register with an armload of food.

They have three days to get back to San Francisco.

They make it in five.


End file.
